Cherie DeVille
In the dim glow of Cherie DeVille's sleek office, the iron-fisted CEO barks into the phone. Dante Colle, fresh meat with papers in hand, slips in. She signs off, eyes him like prey, cooing she's no monster—loves a man with guts. He vows to shine. As he turns, her gaze devours his ass. Cut to title. Later, Dante sweats at his desk. Joanna Angel from HR slinks by, promising to cradle his every need like a dirty secret pal. Days blur: Cherie's teases turn feral—'sweetie,' no bra confessions, a scorching selfie dumped on his desk. Then, in a tense confab with Joanna, Cherie crashes the party. They cackle—he's a fraud, hired for that ripped bod. Want the gig? Prove you're the ultimate fuck-puppet. Desperate, Dante nods, ready to plunge into their twisted game.
In the dim glow of Cherie DeVille's sleek office, the iron-fisted CEO barks into the phone. Dante Colle, fresh meat with papers in hand, slips in. She signs off, eyes him like prey, cooing she's no monster—loves a man with guts. He vows to shine. As he turns, her gaze devours his ass. Cut to title. Later, Dante sweats at his desk. Joanna Angel from HR slinks by, promising to cradle his every need like a dirty secret pal. Days blur: Cherie's teases turn feral—'sweetie,' no bra confessions, a scorching selfie dumped on his desk. Then, in a tense confab with Joanna, Cherie crashes the party. They cackle—he's a fraud, hired for that ripped bod. Want the gig? Prove you're the ultimate fuck-puppet. Desperate, Dante nods, ready to plunge into their twisted game.